


The Painful Truth

by vanessa_cardui



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blackmail, F/F, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4192830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanessa_cardui/pseuds/vanessa_cardui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look," said Lara.  "I know you're upset, but it wasn't me.  I promise—I don't know anything about it.  And if you'll just--"</p>
<p>Selene held up a thumb drive, and Lara hesitated.</p>
<p>"Promises," said Selene.  "Here's one.  Unless you come to my room tomorrow night with a different story, I promise that this is going up on youtube."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Painful Truth

"Look," said Lara. "I know you're upset, but it wasn't me. I promise—I don't know anything about it. And if you'll just--"

Selene held up a thumb drive, and Lara hesitated.

"Promises," said Selene. "Here's one. Unless you come to my room tomorrow night with a different story, I promise that this is going up on youtube."

Lara took the thumb drive not really thinking about what she was doing, and then Selene turned and left. There was nothing—there was no way that she could prove anything. And it wasn't like Lara had been the only one there that night; even if she could. . . it was probably a virus, or something, and she wasn't stupid enough to put that thumb drive in anything she owned.

Only she couldn't stop fiddling with the thumb drive. It was cheap plastic crap, kind of like Selene, but . . . but hell. Lara went to the library, found a computer in the back row, and checked what was on the thumb drive.

One video file, twenty minutes long, just called Laraclip. Lara plugged in her headphones, opened the file up.

Headphones didn't matter, because there wasn't any sound. And the video quality wasn't great. Only there was the bio lab. And then they came in.

No sound, so nobody could hear that it was Katy who was the one who'd convinced them to come in to see if they could find Mr. Sellway's stash of girlie mags, which they were sure were in the desk. Or that it was Jason who was mad about Selene dating Gregor, or that it was Lara who tried to convince them not to do anything. Just the three of them breaking into the bio lab, and then letting all those fireflies out of the jars, and then shooing them out the window.

Just the fire-fly getting in under the handkerchief that Lara had put on over her face, so that if there were security cameras nobody would see her. Just Lara taking the handkerchief off, and trying to chase it away, and laughing because it tickled and because they'd gotten away with it.

The next night, Lara showed up at Selene's dorm room, feeling small and stupid and weird. There was a long pause after she knocked—maybe that was it? Maybe Selene was out? Maybe she could—

Then the door opened, and Selene let her in. She was wearing sweats, and a T-shirt, and her hair was tied back in a pony tail.

"Have any more promises?" asked Selene, once the door clicked shut behind them.

"It wasn't . . . Jason was . . . I—"

Selene shook her head, sadly. "Don't try to blame anyone else," she said. "You did it, then lied about it."

"No, I--" But she had. "I'm sorry."

Selene gave a sort of nod at that. Maybe that was enough? "I really just. . . please don't tell anyone? It's like five weeks to graduation, and I can't get suspended or I won't--"

"There's a fifty-thousand dollar scholarship I was trying to get," said Selene. "And you--" There were tears at the corners of her eyes, but she clamped them back. Her hands were twitching; she picked up a ruler, a heavy-looking wooden one, and they clenched around it.

"Pull down your pants," she said. "And lean over, hold onto my desk."

Lara hesitated.

"It's that, or I go to the school, and I go to the cops, and--"

Lara pulled down her pants and leaned over, holding onto the lumpy old dorm-room desk, intensely conscious of her butt in the air, covered by nothing but a pair of underwear. She closed her eyes, tensed, but she couldn't help yelping when the ruler came down. And then again, when it came down again. It hurt, and it hurt worse, and Selene wasn't slowing down, or holding anything back—the next yelp was more of a howl than a yelp, and then, finally, Selene eased up.

If that was going to be it, maybe she'd--

"Walls are too thin for that," said Selene. "Stay where you are."

Lara didn't move, just kept looking straight down at the soft-edge wood of the desk, cut and gouged by decades of students in the dorm.

Selene came back, and she had a gym sock in her hand. "Open up," she said.

Lara didn't.

"It's clean," said Selene. "And it's that, or explain to the RA exactly what's going on."

Lara opened her mouth, and Selene forced the sock in. Not unkindly, exactly. But firmly—and it was dry, and it filled her mouth, and then the ruler came down again. And again, and again, and Lara was howling into the sock, and she was crying, tears dripping down onto the desk.

It had been stupid and just unthinking and Selene was justified. But it had also been beautiful, watching those fireflies dancing in the dark.

And it was painful and humiliating and Selene was justified. But there was . . . the way she kept a hand on Lara's shoulder, to hold her in place, and her hand was warm. The sting of the ruler as it hit, and the burn afterwards, and just the way it felt to be held down like that and hit, over and over.

Lara's howling was muffled by the sock, and her breathing was kept in time by the ruler, but it wasn't irregular only because she hurt and was crying. Maybe Selene wouldn't notice? Her hips moved with every swat, her clit looking for something to push against, even though that was the last thing she wanted to do.

Finally, Selene stopped, put the ruler down, stepped back.

"Stand up," she said, and Lara stood, bent down to pick up her pants.  
"No," said Selene. "Stand up. Look at me."

Lara knew her face was red and raw and that she looked stupid. Selene also looked like she might have been crying. And she was so mad, still, that Lara looked away.

And then Selene looked down at her, at her panties.

"Oh," said Selene, and Lara flushed, and would've bolted, no pants and reddened ass and all, but--

"Sorry?" said Lara.

"Hmf," said Selene. "That was six months of observation, Lara," she said. "Every fucking day, two hours a day. Do you have any idea how hard I worked trying to get something that'd . . . fuck."

"I didn't . . . I didn't think," said Lara. "Please?"

"Please what," snapped Selene.

"Please tell me what to do so you'll . . . I mean, you still have that tape, right?"

"Right," said Selene, slowly.

"So I'll do what you want so you don't give it to the cops or anything," said Lara. "Please?"

Another long look at her panties. They were light green, or at least, part of them were light green. The lower parts—the parts that had gotten wet when Selene was hitting her with a ruler—those were dark green.

"Because of the tape," said Selene.

"Right!" said Lara. "It's just--"

"No," said Selene. "I've already deleted the files. You have the only copy. If you want to see me again, make a video. One in which you say exactly what you did, and exactly why you did it. No lies, nothing--"

She'd enjoyed it too, maybe? No question it was the best offer that Lara had any hope of getting. She grabbed her pants, and ran to the bathroom at the end of the hallway to put them on.

Lara had no idea whatsoever what she was going to say. But it would be the truth; maybe that would be enough.


End file.
